


Trimming the tree

by m_findlow



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22858153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_findlow/pseuds/m_findlow
Summary: It's not the tree that's important.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Kudos: 17
Collections: fic_promptly Fills 2016





	Trimming the tree

Ianto hadn't meant for Christmas to be so disorganised this year, he really hadn't. If anything, he'd been keener to celebrate it properly than he had for years. Now he had Jack and he had his family, who also knew about him and Jack, there didn't seem to be any reason not to celebrate it the way everyone else did. There'd be no hiding out at the hub this year, avoiding phone calls from his sister and being guilt tripped into turning up at her doorstep, laden with presents for nieces and nephews he barely knew. Although Christmas day spent in bed with Jack at the hub was still something he'd miss this year. That was about the one good thing that he could say he'd looked forward to last year. At least they'd still have Boxing Day together to make up for it.

No, this year would be different. Well, it was supposed to be different. His still new house was much bigger than his old apartment, and deemed big enough for hosting Christmas dinner this year. He'd had everything planned out weeks in advance, and the brilliance of online shopping had meant that he no longer had to battle shops and queues in order to organise all of the food needed to put on a proper Christmas spread. With a few simple clicks, a happy little delivery van rolled up at his doorstep, laden with everything they'd need.

There was only one thing left to organise. Then the rift decided to go berserk. From guavas with five legs, to an army of hoix, a spate of mystery illnesses set off by a voodoo mystic, and more rift retrievals for random space junk than they'd had for the past six months. They were all run ragged, and suddenly before anyone knew it, it was Christmas Eve.

'Get out of here,' Jack instructed Gwen. 'Lord only knows Rhys will kill me if you're not home for Christmas.'

'Thanks, Jack,' Gwen said, quickly packing her things and giving them both a quick hug and kiss, wishing them both a lovely Christmas.

Jack loitered about the hub, watching Ianto tidying up the mess that had accumulated from days and days of rushed meals, little sleep and takeaway food. At ten o'clock he finally managed to convince Ianto that the hub was satisfactorily clean, especially since no one would be here tomorrow. Or the day after, if they were lucky.

It wasn't until they were halfway home that Ianto realised his mistake. 'Oh my God, Jack! We forgot the tree!'

'What are you talking about?'

'The Christmas tree. We were supposed to pick one up days ago! We've been so busy, I totally forgot.'

'It's fine. Don't worry about it,' Jack assured him.

'No, you don't understand. If we don't have a tree, David and Mica will be devastated.'

Jack hated how distressed his young lover was becoming. The was only one solution. 'It's okay, I'm sure they will still have some.'

Jack turned the car around and headed back into town. The local scout groups would be selling fresh pine trees in empty lots around the city. He drove past two empty lots with nothing but their signage left to indicate they'd been there. He hadn't realised just how late it was, almost eleven thirty. At the third they passed, he spied two men still there, thought they looked to be packing up. Jack quickly pulled the car over and they trotted across.

'Hi guys,' he greeted them. 'Are you still selling trees?'

'Sorry mate, all sold out,' the first man apologised. 'Unless you count that poor sod,' he said pointing at the woebegone thing leant up against the corner of the cyclone fencing. 'We weren't even going to take it back. Hardly worth it.'

The poor tree was a sad looking thing. Unlike its bushy cousins it was thin, branches sparse and undersize. It was truly the runt of the bunch and bedraggled to say the least.

'We'll take it,' Jack confirmed, handing over the money, though it was exceedingly overpriced for what they were buying. They carefully loaded it into the boot of the car and headed home.

When they reached the house and hauled it inside, placing in the designated corner, it looked even more sad and pathetic than before.

'It looks terrible,' Ianto moaned, disheartened. 'If only I'd been more organised, this wouldn't have happened. What will the kids think?'

Jack wrapped an arm around him, contemplating the withered pine. 'It'll be fine, it just needs a little bit of TLC.'

Late into the evening they spent hours pulling out the boxes of decorations and tinsel, trying to improve the state of their adopted tree. By the time they'd finished, stringing the last of the lights across its frail branches, they'd almost masked its forlorn stature. Jack handed Ianto the glittering star and he placed it gently on the uppermost branch, standing back to assess their handiwork.

'See, what did I tell you?' Jack said.

'It still looks a bit sad,' Ianto confessed, trying his best to absorb Jack's good mood. For weeks he'd had a vision in his mind of a grand spruce, golden baubles sparking against the lush green foliage.

'It's not its fault that it's a little on the small side. Who are we to judge its worth based on looks alone? What's important is what surrounds the tree. And I don't mean presents. That's what counts.' He wrapped Ianto in a warm hug. Ianto gave the tree another look. On second glance it didn't seem quite so sad after all.

'When did you get so good at Christmas spirit?'

'About when I started having someone worth sharing it with.'

**Author's Note:**

> A bizarre, totally un-christmasy time of year to write it, but muses are fickle like that.  
> Muse: I want you to write a Christmas story.  
> Me: but it's April  
> Muse: so?  
> Me: well, who's going to want to read a Christmas fic in April?  
> Muse: me.  
> Me: *sighs* can't I just write something else fluffy for you and Jack?  
> Muse: I like this prompt. We get to save a tree.  
> Me: you don't mind if I write you as disorganised and forgetful?  
> Muse: I can live with that just so long as there's a happy ending.  
> Me: for you guys, always. *winks*


End file.
